


Would You Be So Kind

by LadybugsFanfics



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, F/M, Fluff, Pining, Pining Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, SO MUCH FLUFF, Social Media, fake dating au, this one is really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21704431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/pseuds/LadybugsFanfics
Summary: You ask Steve to be your date for a Christmas party just to get your parents off your ass. He says yes in a heartbeat and it’s simultaneously the best and worst decicion he’s ever made.Written for @/sourpatchkidsandacokecan‘s writing challenge (on tumblr) , prompt “Hey, want to help me get my parents off my ass about not having a date?”
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 49





	Would You Be So Kind

**Author's Note:**

> **This starts with FIVE PHOTOS of texts and in the same post is the 8k words of the fic!** _Also included are Y/D/N = Your dad’s name and Y/CH/N = your childhood friend's name._

  
  
  
  


**DECEMBER 20TH**

Steve Rogers has never regretted anything more, nor has he ever been _this_ happy for a decision he’s made, as he is when you open the door to your apartment. 

Red colored lips draw into a smile that follows all the way up to sparkling eyes crinkling at the side. Your lips match the color of your dress, which shows off the top of your chest that and does not do Steve _any_ good. The dress clings to your curves until it reaches your hips, where a belt cuts it off before it mouths out into a flowy length. The only thing alluding to legs underneath is the one that sneaks out through the slit in the side and shows of a long one that ends in a black high heeled shoe with straps that snakes up your leg. 

_It’s a fake date. It’s a fake date. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake._

He repeats the mantra in his head, telling himself that he shouldn’t stare. Yet, he has to comment, “you look stunning.”

The smile grows on your lips and he swears your cheeks go a little red. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad either.”

“Not sure if that’s really a compliment,” he says, but the smile doesn’t leave his face. 

And it’s totally worth it to hear your laugh, even though it quickly quiets down and through your giggles you say the two of you should get going. You’re probably right. 

It takes a little help from Steve to get you down the stairs, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, any excuse to touch you. He’s a little disappointed when you reach the end of the stairs and you unwrap your hand from his. 

Yet, _this is a fake date._ So he doesn’t say anything and holds open the door to the cab for you, and relishes in the fact that the cab isn’t that big and that you sit rather close. 

“Okay, so there’s something you should know before we get there.” You turn to look at Steve, and he cocks a brow.

“A little scared now, but go on.”

You laugh. “You shouldn’t be. It’s just that, I did tell my parents I had a date only not who, and they have a tendency to bring up world war two, and you and Bucky. And I just want you to be aware they can… be a bit pushy. And all their friends are the same.”

Steve nods. “Do they say things that might trigger? Anything that might make me a little angry or uncomfortable?”

“Totally. That’s my go to response for these parties.” You press your lips together, the apology clear in your eyes. “But I’m not sure how they’ll be with you there.”

“It’ll probably be okay, but I do appreciate you telling me.” He tries for a reassuring smile, and based on the one you give back, it works. 

The cab pulls to a stop. Steve pays the driver and helps you out. 

The building looms in front of you. Steve starts to wonder if it isn’t Tony that has the party, but based on the little you’ve told him, that doesn’t seem to be the case. He wouldn’t be surprised if Tony did suddenly show up, though. 

But that’s not what he really thinks about. No, he has the elevator ride to prepare to be your fake boyfriend for a day. 

You make your way inside. The receptionist greets you by name, to Steve’s surprise, and you smile and greet him in return. And despite the man knowing you and that your act should probably be on already, it’s only in the elevator that you turn to him, serious expression on your face. 

“Okay, so the plan is to not be alone. Because if we’re not together, our stories will suck,” you say. “Probably should have come up with those already, huh?”

Steve smiles. “Probably. However, we can make the story of how we met real, and then make up how we started dating.” 

You nod. “That works. Okay, so when did we start dating?”

“Last year. Kept it quiet because of the media, and we kept dating after I asked you to be my date to one of Tony’s charity events.”

“You came up with that fast,” you say, “but thanks. I’m totally no good coming up with these things. And thanks again for doing this. Don’t know who else I’d ask.”

Steve smiles. “Of course.” He links your elbows together. “If we’re to make-believe a couple when we walk out those doors, we better look like it, right?” His voice sounds awfully calm despite the heat that circulates his body, scorching where your skin meets his. 

“Right. Good thinking.” 

And then sounds the pling signalling the right floor as the doors slide open. Steve braces himself for anything, heart pounding a mile a minute and the feeling of sweat dripping down his back. But both of those are more for being close to you, for acting like your boyfriend, than they are for what’s to come during the party. 

As the doors fully open, the members of the party nearest the elevator turn their heads to look at you and Steve. Smiles color their faces and as you walk out and past the many people, you greet everyone that Steve guesses are familiar faces. Eventually, you stop by two people that Steve sees resemble you a bit. 

Your parents smile at you and you unhook your arm from Steve’s to give them both a hug. “Mom, Dad, this is Steve. Steve, these are my parents.” You mention their names and Steve quickly holds out his hand to shake theirs. 

“Steve, huh?” says your dad as he shakes Steve’s hand. “You look a little like that so-called hero Captain America. You know, back in my day we didn’t need―”

“Dad!” You cut him off and take Steve’s hand in yours, the gesture looking so easy Steve’s pretty sure your parents believe you to be together. “He doesn’t need to hear that.”

Your mother nods and hooks her arm into your dad’s elbow. “Yes, Y/D/N, wouldn’t we rather hear about how they met? And why you’ve kept him hidden from us?”

A blush creeps to your cheeks as you smile at your parents. “Well, we met seven years ago when Tony Stark hired me and I spilled coffee on him on my first day. It took some time, but last year he asked me to be his date for one of Stark’s charities and the rest is history.”

“That sounds lovely,” replies your mom, “but, if you’ve been together a year, why haven’t you said anything before a week ago?” 

“Uhhh….”

“The media, Mrs. Y/L/N,” says Steve as you blush, pressing your lips together and looking everywhere but at him or your parents. “We’ve been trying to keep it on the downlow so as to not drag much attention to it. You know how it is in the start phase of a relationship, trying everything out and seeing if it works.”

Steve guesses he gave the right answer based on the smile on your mom’s face. It shines brightly and she gives you a little wink and leans in. He can hear the small whisper of “ _he’s a keeper_ ” and he relishes in the blush that grows on your face. 

You look awfully cute with red cheeks, biting your lips, and only looking at Steve through your peripheral vision. Steve swallows at the sight, and tries to act nonchalant but he isn’t too certain he made it. 

Clinking to a glass takes your attention and Steve follows the sound to the middle of the room. A man, whom he presumes is one of the hosts, holds a glass and a fork, the clinking having stopped. “I would like to wish you all a merry Christmas and welcome to our yearly holiday fest.” 

A small cheer flows through the room. 

“Now, as I believe all the guests have come, dinner will be served in a few minutes. It would be very appreciated if you would all take a seat at your assigned one.” The man’s voice is borderline British, but it’s clear to Steve the man himself isn’t. 

He bends down a little to whisper in your ear. “Is that one of your parents friends?” 

You nod. “He’s… Honestly, I don’t understand the half-way accent. It’s ridiculous and you’re welcome to make fun of it, even my parents do that. But you will meet others who do the same.” 

“I might,” he replies and shoots you a smile. 

On your way to the tables, you’re stopped by a woman and the man who talked. They both give you a hug and kisses on the cheeks. The man smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Steve makes the jump that the woman is the one who keeps inviting you, as her smile reaches her eyes more than a little. 

She takes you in and shakes her head. “You look gorgeous, sweetie.” Her eyes swivel to Steve. “And I presume this is your date for the evening? You’ve finally found someone. Everyone’s been talking about it all week. Why haven’t you said anything?” 

It doesn’t take much for Steve to realize why you wanted a date, even a fake one. 

“Oh, you know. Been busy this last year, and wanted to find out who we are in the relationship before going public. Just trying to find our footing in the world,” you reply, but the smile on your face as you talk is as fake as it gets. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this uncomfortable. 

The woman holds out her hand. “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” She says her name as Steve takes her hand and shakes it. It takes her some time to let Steve’s hand go, because as she holds it, she comments, “firm grip. You’re lucky there.” And then she winks. 

_Now_ , Steve has seen you more uncomfortable than you were mere seconds ago. Because despite the blush that creeps into your cheeks, you’re also looking up at Steve with the biggest apology written in your eyes and lips pressed together in a thin line that kind of smiles but it doesn’t even look like a fake one. It looks like a please-get-me-out-of-this-conversation one. 

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he says. “But we should go find our seats. Pretty sure she’s hungry now as we haven’t eaten since lunch.” 

It’s a total lie, but the smile and the small goodbye from the hosts makes it worth it. So does the reassuring smile on your face as you walk past and into the way bigger dining room than Steve had originally thought. 

“Thanks,” you say, “I… I cringe on behalf of some of the women here.”

Steve chuckles. “That was not something I expected.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? A handsome man whose muscles practically protrudes and ruins his suit doesn’t think he’ll get a few comments or stares from the women at this party?” 

Steve shrugs. 

“Since the moment we stepped out of the elevator there has been at least three women and one man drooling over your looks at any given time.”

“Prove it.”

You smirk and turn around to face the crowd. Steve watches as you scan it, and he should probably look to where you’re looking to see that you’re right, but instead he looks at you. He looks at the way your eyes squint and your lips press together in thought. He looks at the triumph in your eyes as you spot what you’re looking for. He looks at the deep blush that creeps into your cheeks when you turn back and notice he’s been staring. 

“I found three.” 

And then you point them out for him; one girl in the back that keeps looking their way and at the person she’s standing with; one older woman who _winks_ when she notices that you and Steve look her way; and a man, probably a little older than you but not by much, who stands off to the side leaning against the wall with eyes traveling up and down Steve. The man, too, winks when he notices you and Steve looking his way. 

When Steve returns his gaze back to you, you’re smiling brightly over your win. 

“What do I owe for you being right?” asks Steve, smiling back at you with the same brightness. Everything about you is just so contagious. 

You make a grimace, a little scrunch of your nose and a tug at the side of your lips, whilst you think. Steve’s mind screams cute and he wishes to just give you a small kiss right there and then, but he can’t find the courage. 

“You owe me―” you say, holding up a finger for his attention. A finger which he now notices is lacquered with red nailpolish matching your dress and lips―you’ve really gone all in. “―a dance later.”

“That doesn’t seem like much to bet on.”

You scrunch your nose. “You’re probably right because I think they’d expect us to anyway, but now you at least have no choice in backing off. I need the reassurance, ‘kay?” 

Steve smiles and nods. “Sure. A dance you’ll get, m’lady.”

You smile up at him, and to his surprise tiptoe to place a kiss on his cheek. To everyone there, it would probably seem normal, you’re supposed to be a couple after all, but to him, it makes his body feel like it’s on fire and he wonders what it would be like if you’d kissed his lips. 

He takes what he can get. And he needs to steer the conversation in another direction. “Shall we find our seats?” he asks. 

You nod, and he leads you along the tables with his hand at the small of your back. He’ll take any chance he gets to touch you, and he can’t wait for the dance. 

The cards with your names on, or your name and Steve’s as Y/N’s date, are placed on a small round table in the middle of the dining room. Only two people on your table has already seated themselves. Based on their smiles and how you greet them, they’re people you already know. 

Steve pulls out your chair for you and pushes it in when you’ve sat down. The woman of the two you sit with comments on it, making Steve swallow as he sits down. You only smile and nod and the two of you have a small conversation about your lives. 

A conversation that stops when the chair next to you is pulled out by a male your age. Steve eyes the man warily, but he quickly smiles at your surprise and genuine glee at seeing him. You stand up and give the man a quick hug before you sit back down. 

He doesn’t mind that you don’t introduce him to the guy, much because of your enthusiasm and how the look on your face is the most adorable he’s ever seen. Yet, something tugs at Steve’s heart during the interaction. His gut churns, not in the good way. 

But he keeps telling himself it’s a _fake_ date. He’s your _fake_ boyfriend. This is _pretend_. No matter how much he repeats it, it doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

And he can’t say he isn’t happy that your conversation gets cut short by the hosts presenting the food. This is also when he finds out it’s a five dish dinner, and he can’t say he complains. 

Unless the food is some posh, gross thing he can’t really eat. Or if it’s practically nothing on the plate. 

His fears are soon disproved and he drools every time a new dish comes out. The conversation around the table is less important to him, though he chimes in every now and then. Of course, you notice his love for the food and laugh whenever he uses a napkin to dry some of the drool of his chin. But he only smiles and busies himself with eating. 

Which, on the fourth dish is cut short by his name mentioned. 

He looks up from his plate and searches for the face that said his name. Eventually, his gaze lands on you and you roll your eyes. “They asked what you do for a living, I thought it best you answer that yourself.”

Steve nods, appreciative of you not answering for him. Only problem is he hasn’t read the room and he isn’t sure whether to tell the truth or not. So he goes for half-truths. “I work in security.” 

The three other men around the table perk up. “What kind? Any firm we’ve heard of?” 

“Uhm, a lot of different jobs. Mostly it’s field work, and I help a little in the lab if they need help to test developed stuff. I work for Stark Industries.” And though he doesn’t really work for Tony, it fits with you meeting him there. And it’s not that much of a stretch from the truth. 

“Tony Stark, huh?” asks your friend. “How is he, really? I’ve heard her stories for the past seven years, but I want to hear your impression.”

Steve glances at you, and you shrug with a smile and take a bite of your food. He nods and opens his mouth. “I guess he’s not too bad. A little arrogant and spoiled maybe, but he’s funny and he cares about his employees. Gotta admit we’ve had some falling outs, though. He’s not one that it’s easy to see eye to eye with.”

“That’s not true,” you say. 

Steve raises a brow. “In what way?”

“He does not care about his employees. Do you have any idea how many times he keeps telling me to go home?! It’s not sleep I need, it’s answers.” You scoff, and Steve shakes his head with a small smile at the playfulness in your voice. 

“Guess it sounds like he cares,” shoots your friend in. 

As you turn to look at him, your gaze softens. “I guess. But I can’t help it. The lab is my second home.”

The woman across the table smiles and lets out a quiet laugh. “What about Steve’s home? We heard you’ve been together a year now? You moved in together yet?”

_That_ is a question you didn’t prepare for. Steve shoots you a look that you return with some of the same panic, and then you smile and he guesses you’ll take care of it. 

“Oh, you know. We’re getting there, but we haven’t really made the actual move yet. Most of his clothes are at my apartment, though, and that’s where we spend most of our time, I guess.” Steve’s almost taken aback by the causality in your voice. 

But also by your how you expect that it’s your apartment you would move into. “What’s wrong with my apartment?” he asks. 

You turn to look at him, both brows raised and eyes wide. “What’s not wrong with it? You do realize where you live, right?”

It hits him as you say it that he lives in the avengers tower, with the rest of the avengers and practically no privacy. Okay, yeah, so moving to your apartment doesn’t seem like a bad idea. And, if you should break up, it would be easy for him to move back to the building. 

After that thought, he has to remind himself again that it’s fake. No matter how real it feels, it’s fake. 

“Where does he live?”

Steve panics a little, but quickly resumes his really bad poker face. “Oh, uh, it’s just that I have roommates and there’s not really any privacy.”

You nod along and a chorus of understanding passes through the people you share a table with. 

Thankfully, the conversation is cut short by the dessert being brought out. Too caught up in keeping the fake part of the date under control, Steve hadn’t even noticed the waiters picking up his plate. But he does notice the huge lava cake, sprinkled with powdered sugar and raspberries they bring out and set down in front of him. 

Or, actually, they set it down in between you and Steve. The same happens with the man and the woman across the table, whilst the two singles get one each. You lean closer to Steve. “Couples get a big one to share. It’s tradition.”

The tradition has Steve swallow. First of all, he kind of wanted it all to himself. Second of all, he gets to share with you and they probably expect some sort of lovey-dovey acting with it. Like feeding each other. 

_Oh, God, please don’t let that happen._ Steve’s not sure what he would do if it became expected of him to feed you a spoonful. His hand would shake like crazy, his heart would pound out of his ribcage, and his body would feel like it was doused in gasoline and put on fire. 

Yet, the feeding part is exactly what the couple across the table does. They only feed each other every now and then, but they do it. 

Though the expectation of it isn’t on your face. Steve’s too afraid to cross some line that makes the fake date feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t think he could forgive himself if he did something to make it weird between you. 

“Okay, this is so good.” You smile as you take another spoonful, bringing with a raspberry. “I don’t think you’re gonna get anything, Stevie.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat. The nickname is an old one even, you’ve always used it. He knows his name in your contacts is Stevie. And yet, his heart skips a beat, and he looks to you and he finds you grinning at him. 

“You’re not getting all of it.”

“Watch me.” You move the plate closer to you and start eating faster than you were. Steve, being very much stronger than you, waits until you’ve finished a spoonful (so that you don’t spill anything on your dress) and then tackles your hands behind your back so that you can eat anything. With one hand, he keeps you in place. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He shoots you a smirk as he uses his left hand to eat. 

“This is not fair,” you complain and try to wiggle out of his grip. “Let me go. I promise we can share.”

Steve looks to where you sit. Your lower lip jut out and covers your upper lip. The pout goes annoyingly well with the puppy-dog eyes you send him. “Okay, but we’re gonna share.”

You nod, and he releases your hands. As you move the plate a little back to be in front of you, you shoot him a big smile and take a spoonful with the last raspberry. “Okay, open up.”

Steve cocks a brow. 

“I was serious about sharing.” You stare at him exasperated until he does as told. Only as the spoons about to go into his mouth, you quickly move it back to your own and eat it. 

“That’s how you wanna play?” 

You giggle and smile brightly at him. It seems you try to say yes, but it doesn’t come out and you resort to a nod instead. 

“I don’t understand how you can still be this much in the honeymoon stage. You’ve been together a year.” 

Steve’s payback is cut short by the woman across the table speaking. You both look to her and though Steve frowns, you smile gleefully. “We were friends beforehand for a long time. I think much of the friendship just came along. Pretty sure we would do this even if we weren’t dating.” 

The words come out so fast, and the last sentence feels like a stab to his heart. This was all friendly, everything was friendly. You’re on a _fake date._

Thankfully though, the owner of the voice doesn’t look convinced. She raises her brow your way, scepticism coloring her expression. “You sure? Because it does not look like a friend thing. At all. If I did that with one of my friends, that would be one of my, albeit lousy, attempts at flirting.”

You press your lips together, shrugging at her comment. But, if she’s right, what does that mean for Steve? You’re supposed to act like a couple, to flirt here and there, and you had never done anything like it before. Nonetheless, it might be something you’d done with more people. Steve makes a mental note to ask Bucky and Sam about it later, maybe they have some answers. 

On the other side, the comment has you not continue to tease him. Instead you eat the dessert in silence, or with some conversation that’s not with him. Steve takes notice of how, when there is no more dessert, you scoot your chair a little closer to his and lean your head on his shoulder, and he notes that you’ve taken off your shoes and folded your legs underneath your dress. 

He eyes you a little worriedly. “You tired?” he asks. 

You give him a little nod. “It’s gonna be okay. Just a lot of people at once.” 

“Let me know if you need some fresh air,” he whispers and places a kiss on your forehead. Panic rises in him as he realizes what he did, but you only smile, nod and close your eyes a little. If he’s not wrong, you actually move in closer to him. 

In a fit to make it look even more like you’re a couple, he takes your hand in his and starts to trace his thumb along the back of it. The smile grows a little on your face and Steve smiles, happy with himself. He welcomes the warm feeling that falls over him, welcomes the burn from your skin to skin contact, welcomes the tingling feeling that comes with your cool breath on his neck. 

_God, does he wish this wasn’t fake_

“You’re really cute together.” Your friend from earlier leans a little over. His voice is low as he speaks, probably to not disrupt you. 

Steve nods. “Thanks.”

“We haven’t really been introduced. I’m Y/CHF/N. It’s nice to meet you.” He doesn’t reach a hand over to shake Steve’s, but Steve doesn’t take offence to it seeing as he’s occupied with your hand. “But really, she’s been tiring from things like this since we were kids, it’s nice to see that she’s found someone that makes her comfortable enough to relax with.”

Steve hasn’t thought about it that way. Truth be told, you had been spending a lot of time together the last few years, and whenever you’d been out or at a party, often you’d been one of the first to go home. You’d told him you tire from social activity, that it drains you and that alone time is good. However, whenever he’d been over when you’d thrown a little get together, he’d stayed long into the night. Sometimes you’d talked, laughed and had fun until morning came. You’d never shown any signs of tiredness. 

Yet, you’d been at this party for a little over three hours and seemed ready to pass out. Has Steve never been draining your energy and only now realised? He tries not to think about it too much, but it does make him want to smile. Knowing you don’t mind his company has a warm feeling travel through his veins. 

_God, he wishes this wasn’t fake_. 

He turns to Y/CHF/N. “I’ve never actually thought about it. She’s often the first to go home, first to leave parties or get togethers, or if she’s been hosting them, most go home pretty early, but whenever it’s just the two of us, that doesn’t seem to be the case. But that makes me happy. I love making her happy.” Steve looks to you as he talks, the smile growing on his face with every word. 

It takes every piece of strength he has to not utter the words ‘I love her’. You haven’t agreed on whether or not you’ve said it yet, but seeing as you’ve been faking being together for a year, maybe that would be part of it. 

Steve doesn’t get your friend’s reply as the hosts speak up. Dinner is done, everyone can scatter for a moment, but they wishes everyone back in half an hour. 

He doesn’t want to make you move, but he leans close to your ear. “Want to get a fresh breath of air?” he asks, and you nod. You eyes flutter open and you give him a pouty stare, sleepy eyes looking at him. The words slip out before he can stop them, “you’re adorable.”

A grin grows on your face and the tiredness seeps a little out. You lift your head from his shoulder and bow down under the table for your shoes. “I kind of want to say you too, but then I remember you hate being anything but hot or handsome.” A laugh follows your words, but Steve misses the look on your face as you bend over to get your shoes on. 

It takes another few moments and Steve helps you out of your chair. On your way out, you latch onto his arm, resting your head on it as you walk. Some heads turn as you walk past them, but you don’t seem to notice. 

Everything in Steve thanks you for not getting away from him as you get out on the balcony. There are already some people there, but most of them are smoking, minding their own business. You guide Steve to the railing, and he thinks you’ll let go of him and lean on that instead but you stayed glued to his side. 

“It’s kind of beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, voice light and content. 

Steve looks at you and he knows the words out of his mouth are cliche because of course it’s you he thinks about as they leave, “yeah, absolutely breathtaking”, but he could not care less. It’s more truth than he thinks he’s admitted to in a long time. 

You turn back to look at him. He quickly averts his gaze to the scenery along the city skyline―he can’t have you knowing, you’d probably regret asking him. Nevertheless, he has to admit the way the city lights up is beautiful. Christmas colors every other way, white light shining through the dark of the evening. It’s every bit true to say New York City never sleeps. 

“I’m starting to become a little cold, wanna go back inside?” You look up at him with a sweet smile. 

He kind of wants to say no. “You sure you want back inside? You can have my jacket?”

Your eyes go wide and you nod your head. “I’ll take your jacket, please.” The way you press your lips together, suppressing a giggle and gleefully watching as he takes off his jacket, has you look like a little girl. _God, you’re adorable._ At least now he doesn’t say so aloud, he only smiles and shakes his head as he holds it out for you to put on. 

Nothing can say that the jacket isn’t too big on you, but the childlike glee in your expression (and how his fantasy of you wearing his clothes is half-way coming true) has him smile back at you. You’re beaming and the words are so close to being uttered. 

_I love you_. 

But he’s done reminding himself it’s fake. For now, it can be fake for you whilst he thrives in the closeness he gets. He isn’t faking anything, but if you believe he is and that’s enough to be close to you, he’ll continue to let you think so all night. 

You turn back around to the railing, leaning on it and watching the buzzing city. The sounds of it―cars honking, people shouting, music from some far away place―fill the silence around you. 

The silence of your company lasts for awhile, until one of the smokers comes over to you. “We’re supposed to go back inside now, just thought you should know,” she says. “But, if you want some alone time I don’t think anyone’s gonna worry.” And like so many others have already done, she winks. Only the meaning of this is a little more to Steve’s liking. 

Also, totally worth it with your furious blush. 

You follow the woman inside. The dining room buzzes with life, only to Steve’s confusion, everyone sits in different places than before. He casts a glance down at you and the glee oozes. 

“They change the seating so that everyone has a chance to talk to more people. Probably the only party it happens, but it’s one of the things I like about it.” You smile at him. “Though if you have a date, you’re always with the date, so don’t you worry.” At the last sentence, you poke his nose and laughs at the absurd little whimper he makes out of surprise. 

You look around you, away from Steve who can’t take his eyes off of you. His heart beats within his chest, his head keeps making up questions as to where this is all coming from, and he’s dying inside to capture your lips with his. 

“We’re over there,” you say, tugging at his arm and pointing at a table in the middle where your parents are waving at you. Steve notices that the hosts are also sitting at the table, but you’re making your way over, glee still oozing out. 

He shakes his head, but he follows you. Also here, he pulls out your chair for you and pushes it in and both the women at the table makes a comment about him being a gentleman. Steve only smiles and brushes it off. 

“Now, it’s so nice of you to join us,” says the female host. She smiles warmly your way. “We want to know all about your blooming relationship. Everyone’s been whispering about how cute you are.” She chuckles a little. “Funnily enough they’re also asking why they haven’t seen a kiss yet.”

There’s a small, almost unnoticeable, change in your expression. You smile back at the woman. “Oh, you know. We’re not all there for the public display of affection. The hand holding and such works but I don’t actually think we’ve really kissed in public yet.” You try to laugh it off, but both women at the table frown. 

Your mother reaches for you, taking your hand in hers. “Is something wrong? Something that makes you not want to?” she asks, the worry evident in both her expression and voice. 

“No, Mom, it’s just… We’ve first now gone public with the relationship and it takes some adjusting, you know. I guess kissing isn’t the way we do it.” You glance back at Steve, soft smile on your face and he smiles reassuringly back at you. 

“In that case,” says the host and stands up. She brings with her a glass and a fork and as she clinks the fork against the glass your eyes go wide. It takes another few moments before Steve catches on. “Everyone, I would like your attention. We have a very sweet couple in our midst that have not yet kissed publicly, as they so recently made their relationship public. To make it even more official, they’ll kiss right now. You will be their audience.”

Steve’s heart pounds in his head. He can feel his heart squeeze because even though the thought of kissing you has haunted him all evening, he’s not one to want your first kiss to be as a show in front of a hundred rich men and women he doesn’t know. He meets your eyes, an apology written across your face and a small pleading in your eyes. 

It’s clear this isn’t something you want either. 

“Oh, Charlotte,” says your mother, “you can’t force them to kiss in front of all these people. You know how she is with attention.” 

The relief washes over your face. Steve takes your hand and gives it a squeeze, both relieved and surprised at your mother. Her voice sounded rather angry, in fact. 

Charlotte waves her hand. “It should be okay. They’ve been together for a year, there shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“It is,” you say, voice firm. “We might’ve been together long. We know each other, and we’re familiar with our relationship. But that’s also exactly why you can’t demand we kiss in front of all these people. If we’re gonna kiss, it’s on our own terms. It’s gonna be natural, and we’re both gonna be comfortable, and most likely, it will never be in front of you.”

Steve has never been prouder. 

“Excuse me, young lady, but this is my party.” 

“That does not give you the right to boss people around, or make them do stuff they don’t want to. I know you’re privileged, but honestly, somewhere there’s gotta be a line.” 

Charlotte looks wide-eyed at you, so does most of the room. However, Steve notices a few snicker and smiles, even your parents looks proud. Maybe bringing a date brought you more than just your parents and their friends off your ass? 

You try for a calmer look. “Now, why don’t we all just sit down, talk about something else and wait for the show to start? I suppose it’s the same as last year, and the year before that, and the year before that?”

The host nods and sits down with the help of her husband. He gives you a little smile, almost thankful, making Steve wonder what the guy puts up with everyday. Steve gives you another squeeze and his chest aches at the half-hearted attempt you make to look okay. 

The chatter around the room starts up again, to Steve’s pleasure, and so does the one around your table. Only he tenses a little at the subject your father brings up. 

“So, John, did you read the book I recommended you? And the article with it?” he asks Charlotte’s husband. “Interesting take on the war, don’t you think?”

You notice he tenses, because you’re immediately there to squeeze his hand and cast him a worried look. But he doesn’t know what they’re gonna say yet so he only sends you a smile. 

“Yes, indeed so.” John takes up his glass, swirling the liquid around in it. “Though, different from the others you’ve shown me, it did not mention the so-called war hero.”

And there it came. Steve braces for the next to come. He might be the one that needs a fresh breath of air next. 

“I found that rather odd, didn’t you? He even talked about the rescue mission and everything, and he did mention Sergeant Barnes.” 

Steve notices that that piques your interest as you glance between the two men. “Wait, you read an article on the war that included the Winter soldier but not Captain America, yet it mentioned the rescue mission Captain America went on to free his best friend?”

The two men turn to you, both frowning and tilting their heads in question. Your father squints a little at you. “Since when did you get interested in the war, honey?” 

You shrug. “It’s just that I’ve met them. I did some research afterwards, you know.”

It’s probably the truth, but Steve suspects it’s not the whole truth. 

“Steve also knows a lot about it. It’s almost like he was there.” 

Steve sends you a glare, annoyed at the quick change of topic to get the men off your back. He turns back to them and nods. “I know some, yeah.”

Your father nods in understanding. “You’ve met them both as well, haven’t you?”

Steve nods. 

“Would you like to indulge in a speculation I have? Since you’ve met them, you’re probably the right one to answer.” 

Steve finds it a little odd that your father doesn’t ask you, but he suspects there is a slight different view in gender equality around the room. He nods, “ask away.”

Both John and your father cough, clearing their throats. Your father is the one that speaks up. “I speculate in the Captain’s participating in fighting in the war. There are many pictures and many theories, and my own is that the whole thing is fake. They say he was a scrawny kid, little and with very many allergies, but that he was injected with a serum. Who had the technology at the time to make a serum? Did they maybe just use a model?”

It takes everything in Steve not to punch your father. He’s not even sorry for the feeling, but he tries to hide it. You had warned him, he should have seen it coming. However, he has no intention of answering politely. And with a quick glance your way, it doesn’t seem that you expect him to. 

He coughs to clear his throat, just as the two men did. He sits up in his seat, and he eyes the men with anything but a nice gaze. “I will tell you this once, and only once; questioning a man, who you’ve seen on the news multiple times, and his acts of bravery, is only a way to belittle someone you feel a threat to yourself. You are questioning a man who fought in world war two, with documents proving it. You are questioning a man who fought to save the world, more than once. You are questioning the values of America. There is very little that can annoy me, and there are of course some things about Captain America that aren’t perfect, but he’s human. Just like you. And if you want to know, he was a scrawny kid, one who tried everything to fight in a war to defend his country and his values, but who wasn’t allowed until he became a part of an experiment.”

Steve stands up from his chair, gaining attention from more than just the people at his own table. “It wounds me that you would think so little of a man who’s saved your lives, who would probably still save them even if he heard what you just said. Please, do me a favor, and shove your privileged theories about undeserving heroes up your ass.”

He turns and walks away, not bothering to meet the gazes of the many people who follow after him and heard his last words. 

It aches within him as he makes it out on the balcony. The wind blows at his hair, brushes across his skin as a refreshing relief and he lets out a deep sigh. With you not there, he takes a look at the view. It is stunning, but not compared to your beauty. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

He probably fucked up. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he walked away, probably to the dismay of your mother and Charlotte. But he doesn’t care. He’s too angry to care, too hurt. He knew people didn’t like him all the time, but he never knew there were people who questioned his existence. 

“Steve.” Your voice is soft behind him and he turns his head to find you in the doorway. You smile at him as you make your way out, his jacket laid over your shoulders. “Are you okay?” 

The worry in your voice has every bit of anger in him wash away. He nods, and you take a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

Steve smiles at you and opens his arms. As you wrap yours around his torso and lay your head on his chest, he says, “yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say, and shift so that your chin leans against his chest and you can look up at him. “They’re… I don’t know what they are, but idiots might be a good word.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he says and cups your face. “It hurts a bit, but I can take it.”

Sparkling eyes search his face. “You’re totally sure? Absolutely one hundred percent sure?” 

He nods, leaning down and placing a kiss one your forehead. “Absolutely one hundred percent sure.” 

“Okay, then.” You go back to leaning your head against his chest, eyes looking out over the city. “But we’re not going back in there for a while.”

“That’s okay with me.” 

The two of you stand there in silence for far longer than Steve thinks you do. The world passes down on the street, passes inside where whatever show has started and the privileged people keep up the pretence of nothing wrong. 

However, Steve guesses nothing is wrong. 

He has you in his arms. He’s got you there, comforting him, being his friend, acting like his girlfriend―a little too believably for his taste as all it did was make him confused―but you’re there, being everything he needs and more. 

Steve shifts a tiny bit, fishing his phone out of his pocket and sends a quick text to Sam and Bucky, asking the two what he should do. Their replies are awfully quick, giving him barely any time to sort out his own feelings before they pop in with suggestions. 

All their suggestions are the same, and they all boil down to the same thing. Whatever they say, it’s up to Steve to figure out if he wants to do it. In the moment, it doesn’t feel right, but he hopes he finds the moment by the end of the night. He does still owe you a dance. 

“Y/N,” he asks, and you tilt your head a tiny bit to look up at him. “Do you want that dance now?”

A smile forms on your lips. “We have no music.”

“That’s just an excuse. Humor me. Please?” He tries for puppy-dog eyes. From the gleeful and amused look in your eyes, he takes that for a yes and changes your position; one and holding yours and on your back. His leading has you look up at him rather amused and surprised. 

He smiles at you, relishes in the angelic look on your face. 

The dance doesn’t start. Steve can’t help himself, his body moving before he tells it to, or manages to order it to stop. His lips meet yours. Soft, sweet, trying. And then you realize what he’s doing and press yours firmer against his, moving your arms around his neck as he moves his around to hold at your waist. 

Warm fluttering rushes through his veins. Gut churning, heart drumming, muscles jelly-like. Your lips against his makes a thousand feelings rush to him at once. It’s like lying down in a meadow, surrounded by beautiful flowers, their softness caressing his skin and their enveloping kindness filling his heart. He aches for more, pressing you closer to him. 

Your hand starts grooming his hair, tugging at the strands along his neck. He makes a slight groan, a half-moan, and you laugh at the sound. Enough to break the kiss, but not enough to break the moment. With your laugh died down, you press another kiss to his lips. A chaste one that only leaves him wanting more, but that he already does. 

“You’ve got lipstick on you.” The smile has your face light up, become a sunshine that filters through everything bad in the world. 

“You’ve got smeared lipstick so I don’t think you’re better off,” he replies and tries to use his thumb to wipe away the excess lipstick around your lips. It doesn’t work as well as he hoped it would. 

You shake your head. “Never gonna work, but what do you say to us getting out of here anyway? Maybe continue this at my apartment?” The little scrunch of your nose, showing of your nerves at the question, has Steve melt on the inside. 

“Sounds like a great idea.” 

You take his hand in yours, grinning up at him and placing a kiss to his cheek. And then, with the happiness radiating off you, you drag him to the elevator, shove him inside and press the button down. In no time have you hailed a cab and shoved him inside. 

Steve has to admit, your eagerness comes as a welcome surprise. 


End file.
